


A Fantastic Upheaval of Previously Held Notions

by a3rie



Series: A Fantasic Upheaval [1]
Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: AU, Drama, Friendship, Gen, Humor, barb finds out about the troll in her basement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 15:54:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9664325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a3rie/pseuds/a3rie
Summary: An accidental encounter leads to an unlikely friendship.





	

It was inevitable, really. A creature as large and imposing as himself would be hard pressed to hide forever from someone in their own home.

The blame would, ultimately, go to the washing machine.

True, it was typically Jim who tended to most of the household chores but that didn't mean that Barbara never did them. She usually stayed away from the kitchen at her son's insistence but cleaning, shopping, and laundry were all things she still made time for as often as she could so that her already overburdened young man could spend time doing things that teenage boys were suppose to do, like playing video games or going out with their friends.

So it was one afternoon in which she was temporarily free from the hospital, Barbara Lake discovered the troll who had taken up residence in her basement. The basket of dirty clothes slipped free of limp fingers as she stared in horrified fascination at the large blue _thing_ that was trying, and failing, to wedge itself behind the furnace.

“Um,” it tried gruffly, realizing that the ruse was up and that it no longer mattered if he made it out of her immediate line of sight.

She had seen him.

Barbara looked around the room frantically while the hulking creature stepped away from the furnace and proceeded to awkwardly shuffle in place. Her search ended when she caught sight of the shovel and sprinted for it before the thing could stop her. She brandished the dull head at the monster in what she hoped passed for threatening. 

“What are you!” Huge horns, spikes jutting from his back and arms, yellow eyes under a heavy brow, she wasn't sure she really _wanted_ to know.

Draal held up his hands in an effort to appear nonthreatening and backed away from the startled human. “I'm, uh –an ally of your son.”

“You had better stay away from my Jim! What _are_ you?” She gripped the shovel as if it were a sword.

“I'm a troll, ma'am. And I do not mean you or your son any harm. I swear on my honor!”

The human woman squinted her eyes at him and withdrew her makeshift weapon to rest against her shoulder as she considered the bizarre situation in which she had found herself.

“A...troll,” she tested the word out slowly, disbelief evident. “Are there more of you?”

“Not here,” he answered. He shrugged and glanced around the cluttered basement that had been his home for well over two weeks now. “Humans aren't suppose to know we exist,” he attempted, trying to cut off any ravings and mass exposure the woman now had the ability to unleash.

He thought there might be something back at the Market to make her forget this whole thing; he could just give her a light thump to knock her out and make a quick run down to find something. Or, maybe, just knock her out and put her to bed? She would wake and think she'd dreamed the whole thing! Until, of course, she felt the lump he would be likely to leave, and he didn't think the young Trollhunter would be pleased to learn he'd roughed up his mother in any fashion.

“How long have you been hiding down here? Why _are_ you here? What's going on?” She interrupted his scattered plotting, bringing his attention back to the present. “How do you know Jim?”

“Um.”

 

 

The conversation lasted over an hour as Barbara made him elaborate and divulge all that had been happening to her son. She was astounded to know what all had been going on without her knowledge.

“Why didn't he tell me!” The hurt was obvious in her voice. Draal thought she looked terribly vulnerable as she sat perched atop the pile of laundry that had started all of this. Several emotions fought for dominance on her dainty features. Beside her was the wicker basket, overturned, and working as an improvised table holding two empty cups. She had made him pause a few minutes into his initial explanation so as to go and make them tea. Tea is suppose to be calming, she had told him.

“As I said, humans aren't suppose to know about us. Also, I do believe some of it was in an attempt to save you from worry. His is not an easy task and for his mother to know,” Draal shrugged and left the sentence unfinished.

“Humans aren't suppose to know, but some do?” 

“The overly enthusiastic boy who sticks to your son like a magnet to metal, he has known since the Amulet chose its champion.”

“So, Toby. Any one else?”

He shrugged again. “I do not know of any but with all that has happened since the time of my exile, I should not be surprised to learn that we are not as secret as we would like to be.” He was glad to see that the Trollhunter's mother was now relaxed enough around him to stop trying to threaten him. While he didn't think much of the tea she had offered, perhaps it had helped to settle her nerves. To him it hadn't even been enough for a proper mouthful, but he accepted it as sign of peace.

“I still can't believe this. Where is Jim now?”

Draal hesitated. She had only just calmed down, would answering her truthfully be the best idea? Well, he didn't really see a point in lying now.

“He is likely in training. It is after the time for the school and if he is not here then he is at the Forge. At least, he _should_ be, anyway.”

“The Forge? Is he learning metal-working too? I mean, I know they say it's good to learn a trade but smithing isn't exactly in high demand these days.” Barbara scrunched her nose as she tried to imagine her beanpole of a son hammering hot metal into some weapon or tool. The image didn't quite fit.

“No, the Hero's Forge is a place to learn the art of battle. To build endurance and skills for a fight,” the troll explained. He held his breath in anticipation of another volley of manic aggression. The woman hadn't taken it well the first time he had brought up the specifics of her son's new responsibilities.

This time, however, Barbara just sighed and let her head drop into her hands.

“And you're absolutely sure that he has to fight? There's literally _no one else_ who can be this hunter thing?”

“Alas, no. Were it up to me, the mantel would have passed directly to me once it left my father but fate has decided otherwise.” The urge to reach out and pat the tiny woman was strong but he was in no hurry to break the fragile truce with something that might not be understood as an act of sympathy.

“Has he tried quitting? Has someone tried to take the Amulet from him? Isn't there someone else more capable? He's just a kid! How could this have happened?”

“If it is any consolation, he has bested me in combat. At the time it was not a friendly spar and he not only held his own but did the unthinkable and granted me mercy. It is why I am here now,” he told her patiently. “He is learning swiftly and his methods are strange and new enough to be an advantage. There has never been a human Trollhunter before and I believe that lends him an unpredictability to his enemies.”

“Enemies!” Barbara screeched, her face contorting in helpless indignation. “At his age his enemies ought to be school work and interacting with girls!”

Draal cringed and regretted his choice in words. But really, he couldn't see any other way to explain how things worked and still manage to omit or downplay the violence that came with it.

“He is not alone, though! I have personally sworn to protect him. I am here now to defend this dwelling and you. He as other allies, too.” The woman groaned and tugged several locks of hair free from its neat bun as she pulled at them in frustration. He could sympathize with her feelings of anger. To some extent he still felt the Amulet had chosen unfairly but his feelings of betrayal were no longer directed at Jim.

“This might only be proving your son's point about keeping this aspect of his life secret from you. You are distressed and if he were to know it, it might only work to distract him,” he told her gently.

“Are you suggesting I go on acting like I don't know about all this?”

“I can't make you, but I think it might be better for the moment. Perhaps he will tell you in his own time, when he is ready." It wasn't a terribly reassuring idea but there weren't very many alternatives presenting themselves just yet.

“And you'll protect him?”

“Whenever and however I can.”

 

O-_-o-_-O

 

“What happened to your arm!”

Ice settled into the pit of her stomach as she took in the sight of the new metal limb the troll was now wearing. She hoped against hope that it wasn't a battle injury. She had been working very hard to compartmentalize and accept the new reality that she and her son had stumbled into but she had been coping by mostly trying not to think of the dangers. If a creature as big and strong looking as Draal could loose an arm fighting what could happen to her boy?

“I- um. Sunlight. Remember how I told you we cannot let sunlight touch us?” He tried giving a half truth to ease the pain written so plainly on her face as she reached forward to inspect his prosthetic. 

Barbara shook her head, “I allow Jim to lie to me only because I trust that you wont. What happened?”

Though he would rather have not, Draal gave a very brief and heavily edited account of the battle. Even as he trimmed off the worst details, he told her the truth. About the Bridge and the Amulet's role and of Gunmar. He patted her back lightly and awkwardly as afterward she surrendered to the worry she carried for Jim. She thanked him for keeping her informed and for helping her son in ways that she could not.

Eyes still glistening she squeezed his new arm and nodded.

 

O-_-o-_-O

 

“Um, Ba-bu-rah,” Draal said hesitantly, several days later after things had returned to normal between them. He poked his head up from the cellar and looked around for the woman in question. She was rushing throughout the house, already in her scrubs, and about to walk out the door.

“It's _Bar_ bara,” she corrected him yet again as she distractedly pulled a sack lunch from the refrigerator.

“Yes. Well, I have some words of warning concerning your perspective consort,” he tried for delicacy.

“My _what_?” She paused in her mad dash for the door and turned back to the troll.

“The man who appears to be trying to court you, the one who you, um, smashed lips with.”

“Okay, I've made a lot of compromises over the last few weeks but I draw the line at spying on me.” She leveled an impressive glare at him from over the rim of her glasses.

Draal sighed. He knew this wasn't going to be easy and he had debated even bringing it up but he felt like the woman had the right to know what it was that she had been unknowingly welcoming into her home. They were something like friends now and as such she deserved the truth from him.

“This _Strickler_ is not as he seems. He is an Impure,” he said grimly and then spit to the side out of reflex.

“You did _not_ just spit in my floor! Draal! I don't have time for this right now! I'm running late,” she returned to the kitchen to grab a towel from beside the sink. She threw it at the troll on her way back to the door.

“Clean that up! We can continue this conversation later but I've got to go. Whatever it is you've got against Walter, it can wait. I wont be home until later tonight, have a good day.” With that she was out the door before Draal could get another word out.

He heaved a put-upon sigh and bent over to clean the small area of floor that he'd spit on. Honestly, he hadn't meant to do that. It was an ingrained response. Perhaps he should have found a better way to broach the Stricklander subject.

He looked down at the little cloth he held and smirked. He found it highly amusing that the human had hit him with a towel and expected him to clean up after himself. It certainly hadn't taken her very long to get accustomed to him or the existence of the broader world of trolls. Adaptability must have been a trait the Trollhunter gained from his mother.

He and Barbara had butted wills a few times since their initial meeting but, eventually, they had reached several agreements. One of which would be that Barbara would go on pretending like she didn't know about his existence and another was that Draal would stop eating the coal from out of the furnace.

After that first bumpy introduction, though, they hadn't had a lot of time to interact. The night she had discovered his arm was one of the few times there had been more than a few minutes to spare. Between her work and his helping to train her son, they were still practically strangers, roommates who hardly knew one another. That she trusted him at all was a feat, he thought. Hopefully their limited interactions wouldn't stop her from heeding his warnings about the changeling. He hoped they would have some free time to talk soon before something bad happened –not knowing that something bad had already occurred.

 

O-_-o-_-O

 

“Listen, I'm sure that in some unconventional and convoluted way, Stricklander does truly hold some affection for you. But the truth is, he is a manipulative changeling and he's only using you as a means to an end,” Draal said one evening as he ate the charred remains of Barbara's attempt at a fruit cobbler. “This is delicious, by the way.”

“Don't try to butter me up, you only like it because it's unfit for human consumption.” She huffed as she scrapped the stubborn and blackened crust out of the bottom of the pan she'd used before setting it in the sink to soak.

“What do you mean by changeling?” Her face was all hard lines and challenge. It had been several days since the troll had first tried to bring up the issue of her relationship with Walter but they had not had a chance to continue it until now. Jim was out doing lord knew what and she was stress cooking while she had a night off to experiment. She wanted to try and make at least one halfway decent dish to surprise either Jim or Walt with but so far she wasn't having any luck. Fortunately, her unconventional house guest was more than happy to do away with her failed attempts.

“I mean that he is not human. Nor is he all the way troll. He's an abomination that has been _changed_ to walk in sunlight and his intentions with you are not pure,” he tried to explain.

Barbara turned her back to the sink and folded her arms over her chest to stare at the gruff troll sitting in her kitchen floor. Even while seated he was eye level with her. Though she had gotten used to his presence it was still a bit of a shock every time she saw him.

“So is that why you spit in my floor the other day? You called him Impure. He's been nothing but a gentleman to me and I find it hard to believe everything he's done for me has been some elaborate evil plot.” Still, it didn't make sense to fully discount everything Draal said, seeing as how he would know more about it than herself. But that didn't mean she had to like it. Nor did it mean that she couldn't question his judgment.

“Start from the beginning, what are Changelings?”

So he told her.

 

O-_-o-_-O

 

“W-Walter?” Her voice shook slightly over the phone and Stricklander's brows furrowed in concern.

“Barbara? Whatever is the problem? It's late, are you alright?” He didn't feel any pain so physically she must be safe but there was no mistaking the distress that colored her voice.

“Uh, yeah, I- I am fine. But, if it isn't too much trouble do you think you can come over?”

A jolt ran down his spine and he glanced over at the clock. Almost half past nine, not too late but past the time for casual calls.

“Yes, I'm on my way. Are you sure you're alright?”

“Yeah, just, please, I need to talk to you and it's not something that can be said over the phone,” she told him. Her voice seemed to gain in boldness as she regained her composure.

Oh no. Was she going to break up with him? Were they even an item? Sure, they had gone on a few dates and he really did care for her but he wasn't sure where that left him as far as titles went. He was only just now allowing himself the guilty pleasure of growing close to someone, he didn't want that to end just yet.

“Give me a few minutes and I will see you shortly,” he promised as he ended the call.

Barbara was waiting for him on the front porch when he arrived. He wasn't sure whether to interpret that as a good sign or not. She held out both hands to him and he quickly jogged the short distance to take them, bringing both to his face and kissing her knuckles.

“What's all this about?” He asked cautiously as she firmed her grip on his hands and backed into the door that had been left open a crack. He let himself be pulled into the house after her.

He felt his pulse quicken suddenly. Was this- did she- where they going to be intimate? The look she was giving him was intense, her eyes never leaving his as she let go of one hand to push the door closed behind them. He couldn't name the emotion in those dark blue depths but whichever it was, she felt it strongly.

“Before we go any further, I'm going to ask you one thing.”

Stricklander gulped and nodded his head, suddenly feeling young and clumsy, “Anything, my dear.”

“I need you to promise not to freak out. Nothing gets broken and no one gets hurt,” she told him seriously.

He paused and tilted his head to the side, completely at a loss for how to respond to her instructions. Perhaps this evening was not going the direction he had previously thought.

“Ookaaay,” he answered slowly while his mind raced to figure out what was going on. He loathed not being in control of a situation and something told him that he wasn't going to like whatever was about to happen next.

Barbara shook her head and linked their fingers together, her expression managing to be somehow both determined and beseeching.

“If you care anything at all about me, then please, trust me now.”

“What is this all about?” He asked a second time. The feel of her delicate fingers intertwined with his was a pleasant sensation but he wouldn't let it distract him completely.

Instead of answering him she pulled him past the swinging door and into the kitchen where he had previously failed to notice the large troll sitting by the back door. Draal growled and narrowed his eyes in obvious contempt. Stricklander stiffened at the sight, his breath hitching in his throat. Barbara whirled around and shot a warning glare at the troll.

“Hey! We've already talked about this,” she told him in clipped, commanding tones.

The changeling wasn't sure what about this situation surprised him more, that Draal was sitting in Barbara's kitchen like he belonged there or that he actually seemed to be taking orders from a human.

“I wanted to talk with you alone but he insisted that he needed to be here to guard me,” she told him with a half apologetic shrug. “Now, I won't pretend like I know everything or that I even properly understand a fraction of what all is really going on around here, but I want the truth, Walt. Have you been lying to me?”

“I- um- well,” he faltered for a moment, his eyes darting back and froth between her and the toll glaring daggers at him from across the room. With a heavy, resigned, sigh he dropped his human guise and stood before her in his true skin. With his chin held high he met her eyes and waited for the inevitable disgust and accusations to start flying.

Instead, Barbara looked at his new form from head to toe in open curiosity and then nodded. It was all very anti-climatic and the lack of fear or loathing put him further on edge.

“Well?”

The woman pursed her lips thoughtfully as she looked him over once more, “Honestly, I think I was expecting something more like Draal and was very confused as to how you could look like you do and also be a troll but this makes slightly more sense.”

Her complete non-reaction to his appearance was nothing he could have prepared for and he felt his defensive posture loosen a little. 

“Are you not horrified?” He had to ask. She had kissed him back, after all. Shouldn't she be sickened to know this was what he truly was?

“Actually,” Barbara's eyes narrowed in renewed seriousness, “what I'm most concerned about in all of this is that Draal tells me you've been trying to _kill my son._ ”

“Now, now, kill is perhaps an exaggeration. These days I merely mean to neutralize him,” he answered candidly. His head jerked back suddenly from the fierce slap he didn't anticipate coming.

“Ow!” Barbara yelped simultaneously as her own head swung to the side from an invisible mirrored force.

“What the hell, Walt!”

Draal growled and shot to his feet, baring his teeth, “You cowardly Impure! Did you bind her to you?”

Stricklander rubbed his cheek, surprised by the slight sting he could feel despite his tougher troll hide. His hand stung, too, and he found himself a little proud of the woman and her audacity.

“Our fates are tied, yes. I had to have some means of insurance.” He leveled a challenging look at the other troll, daring him to try something. 

“Ah!” He hissed in pain and rubbed his arm before looking back over to Barbara who was now using her nails to pinch a large hunk of skin near her elbow.

“Stop that!”

“No, _you_ stop! Draal, sit down. Walter, take a seat. We are going to have a nice, adult conversation now or _so help me_ I am a woman and a doctor! I know anatomy and have enough endurance to leave you in a serious world of hurt.”

Despite being angry and incredulous, Stricklander couldn't help but feel a renewed surge of admiration for the woman standing before him. Her blue eyes blazing with determination and a force of will demanding to be respected, he felt his resolve falter.

He inclined his head and turned to the dining room to collect two chairs to bring back to the kitchen. He offered one to Barbara solicitously and she snatched it from his clawed hands with a dignified huff.

It was to be an interesting night.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> It's been such a long time since I've written anything longer than a page of random disconnected ideas that this was more of a struggle than I'd anticipated. Sorry if it seems to go back and forth between fluff humor and serious too often. Didn't want to give emotional whiplash but I didn't have the patience for a long multi-chapter fic to suss it all out proper. Anyway, first run into the Trollhunters fandom. Hi, hello.  
> [edit: part two is posted and in progress]


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